Enough
by planet p
Summary: AU; Walking through the same dream one night, Jarod bumps into Angelo and realises something about himself: he is special but he is also just like everyone else, he is normal. Normal enough. Jarod/Angelo (Okay, this one's a wee bit creepy, but you probably already figured that.)


Angelo stood with his back pressed against the wall, his eyes wide as anything and strangely, deliberately unmoving. Jarod thought that it might be because of him, because of the way he was feeling, that he'd scared Angelo, but he couldn't make himself care. He stumbled toward Angelo, hoping the empath might be able to tell him what was wrong with him and why he was feeling so lousy and out of sorts, but Angelo went on staring at nothing. Only the shaking of his hands gave him away as having noticed Jarod's approach.

Taking the hint, Jarod stopped a little way away from him and stared at him. "Angelo, I don't feel so good. I feel really awful. I think I need help."

Angelo made a strange whimpering sound and slid down the wall to the floor, trembling all over. Painfully slowly, he reached out a hand in Jarod's direction. Across the hall, Jarod sat down on the floor and reached for his friend's badly shaking hand. He supposed it was bad, if Angelo felt this way already.

When their hands finally touched, Jarod felt a strange tremor race along his arm. He winced. "What is it? What's wrong with me?" The weird tremor continued through the rest of his body, twisting painfully.

Though they were not touching in real life, Jarod was slightly worried that whatever was wrong with him might make Angelo sick too. He didn't want his friend getting sick because of him, but he supposed he had to be thankful in this instance that they were only meandering through common territory in a dream, as they sometimes did.

Angelo jerked his hand back, away from Jarod's abruptly. "Cannot help," he whispered, staring intently at nothing much. "Normal. Jarod fights it too hard. Must accept feelings, Jarod."

Jarod held a hand to his middle, wincing in pain. "It hurts, Angelo! Why do I have to accept the pain? Please, tell me how I can make it stop!"

"Normal. Angelo cannot help."

Jarod stared at him in annoyance and pain. "If I tell Sydney, do you think he might help?" he asked, the whine in his voice offensive even to his own ears. He almost couldn't believe he felt so disgusted with himself in a dream. It was just a dream, after all. Or... something like that.

"No help! Sydney no help; nobody no help. Normal!"

"Pain isn't normal, Angelo!" Jarod scowled, glaring at him now.

Angelo stared angrily at the space in front of him, as if he really meant to glare at Jarod like that. "Not pain. Jarod makes it pain. Not pain. Normal."

"It hurts!" Jarod burst out. "Please tell me how I can make it stop, Angelo!"

For some unknown reason, Angelo started to cry. Jarod stared at him, half in shock, wondering what he was supposed to do now.

"How is it normal, Angelo?" he demanded, hoping his question might take his friend's mind off whatever was upsetting him so much.

Jarod really didn't like seeing his friend crying, and crying never got you anywhere. Albeit, it was just a dream, but Jarod still didn't like it, and he certainly didn't like having to see it and knowing he couldn't do anything about it because, for once, he didn't have the answers, he had no earthly idea what was causing his friend's distress.

Angelo pressed closer to the wall, as if for comfort, or maybe he was just hoping he could disappear into it, but dream wall or not, it wasn't giving.

Jarod had the troubling thought that he'd managed, yet again, to miss the point. His friend was hurting, and he couldn't even offer him a little comfort. He almost wanted to smack himself over the face for his idiocy. Even if nobody else at the Centre gave a damn or showed any human sentiment, Jarod knew he shouldn't have been trying so hard to emulate them, or whatever it was he was doing. Surrendering to his fate. They could do almost anything they pleased to him, but they couldn't rewrite his biology. He was still a human being, damn it, and human beings comforted one another when they were in pain.

He was seething by the time Angelo finally replied to his question, and then it was hard to remember what he'd actually asked, especially with Angelo's frustrating persistence in whispering, as if he couldn't speak properly because that would make it hurt more of maybe someone would be able to hear what they were talking about in the real world. Jarod had to refrain from scowling at him.

"Not pain, Jarod. Normal. Hormones, body changing. Everyone, same thing."

The cryptic reply was too much and Jarod scrambled across the hallway and grabbed his friend's arms, forcing him to look at him, shaking him a little bit but not too much. "Speak sense, Angelo! You're messing me up! I don't know what you're saying!"

Eyes round and shiny with terror, Angelo whispered, "Not pain. Jarod messing himself up. Denial, pain. Denial first. Pain second."

Jarod couldn't help it. He let go of Angelo's arm and smacked him clean over the face. The sound was awful, too loud and far too mean. Jarod felt like smacking himself too, out of principle alone, but Angelo had started crying again and Jarod was right there. He supposed he should comfort him now, so he pulled his friend closer and just held onto him, mumbling to himself. "I'm denying something that's completely normal and happens to everyone, and that's what's causing the pain. Nice." He pressed his face into Angelo's hair, which was soft and kind of nice, and grumbled, "That doesn't make it any clearer, you know?"

Angelo didn't say anything so Jarod sighed. Talking to Angelo took a lot of effort sometimes. It was frustrating. He reminded himself that he'd been the one to upset him in the first place, to make him want to cry. Why would Angelo want to talk to him, anyway? If it had been him who'd been bawling his eyes out, he probably wouldn't have wanted to say much either. He'd have wanted to be left alone, to cry in private, because crying was pointless in a place like the Centre. They didn't care if you were hurting or unhappy, just as long as they could poke you and prod you and make you work.

Jarod sniffed, noticing that Angelo's hair smelled nice. It was probably just because they were dreaming and Angelo really wanted his hair to smell that way, or else it was Jarod himself, projecting something he wanted onto Angelo. He couldn't quite remember, but he had a feeling his mother's hair had smelt nice. Whenever she'd come to visit him, Catherine's hair had smelt nice. Comforting.

Jarod stared at the wall hard, a sudden realisation hitting him. "Angelo, do you mean I'm denying it because it won't do me any good acknowledging it here anyhow because..." he frowned, "nobody cares?"

Angelo nodded silently, and Jarod patted his back. "Can you at least tell me what I'm denying?" he asked hopefully, but Angelo was perfectly still and silent. Jarod's curiosity was starting to be pretty painful itself, just then. "I won't be angry, I promise."

He loosened his hold on Angelo and removed his hands from his back, leaning back to get a look at his face. Angelo made a face, probably annoyed that Jarod was staring. Jarod went on staring, hoping Angelo finally gave in and tell him what he wanted to know. He knew he knew, he just didn't know _what_ he knew.

He levelled his gaze with Angelo's, staring intently into his eyes. "Tell me."

Angelo looked away from him sharply, turning his face away. "Strange."

Jarod snorted. "The strangeness will end as soon as you tell me what I want to know, Angelo, so just tell me."

Angelo's eyes widened and a manic light flickered through them. He lunged at Jarod suddenly and hissed in his ear. "Sex!"

Jarod scooted away from him as fast as he could, his heart beating madly in panic. "No! No! I don't! Do I?"

Angelo narrowed his eyes, as if implying that he already knew the answer to his own harebrained, pleading question.

Jarod made a little whimpering sound in his throat and blinked back tears. "I am not mentioning this to Sydney," he said, trying for a note of seriousness. He wasn't... upset or flustered or... Nothing like that!

He stared at Angelo urgently, pleadingly. "How do I make it stop, Angelo?!"

"Can't. Normal."

The dismissive tone in Angelo's voice made Jarod want to smack him again. Hard. He figured he was just projecting; he really wanted to smack himself for being... for being... so horrendously, disgustingly normal. He was a genius, special, but he was also nauseatingly bloody normal. It felt wrong, terribly wrong. Jarod couldn't help feeling cheated. Why was his body doing this to him? Didn't it know the Centre couldn't care less for his feelings, let alone his "urges"? They never had before? Why couldn't it wise up? Why, damn it?!

He sniffed. "I'm still not mentioning it to Sydney," he muttered darkly.

Angelo laughed, and Jarod really wanted to smack him then. If he'd been looking at him and had laughed at him right to his face, he really would have smacked him again. He stared at Angelo, willing him to give it up, to wipe that ridiculous smile off his face. "It'll happen to you too, you know!" he snapped meanly, feeling only a little better because he figured Angelo hadn't thought of that and it would probably make him _shut up_. And then cry. But the main part was the part about shutting up, Jarod thought.

Angelo flinched. "Since Angelo was young," he muttered, in a low voice. "Dummy!"

"What did you just call me?" Jarod demanded, his heckles rising. Now he _really_ wanted to smack Angelo! "Do I look inanimate to you? I have feelings, you... you... I don't know what that word is but you're it!" he growled furiously.

Angelo sighed heavily. "Jarod no touch Angelo. Angelo want to help, cannot stop. Normal. For Angelo. Jarod friend. No touch Angelo." He turned and met Jarod's eyes, his gaze freakishly intent all of a sudden.

"You can't help me anyway," Jarod mumbled unhappily. "The simple fact is: I'm normal." The scowl on his face disappeared, and he shrugged. "I feel... contaminated, in a way, but not only that. I guess this means I'm... I'm like other people, like my parents. Even if I am a freak, too, I'm still... also normal. Now I just have more pain." He grabbed a handful of his hair in frustration and cut his eyes to his friend's. "Angelo, how do you deal with it?"

"Not Angelo, problems of Angelo not so painful."

Jarod nodded. "You're not aware of... whatever it is you're feeling, but you still feel it. You just don't acknowledge it. You're doing what I'm doing, but differently. Kind of..."

Angelo rolled his eyes.

"You're such a Pet," Jarod replied, with a snicker. Raines liked to do that too, roll his eyes. Especially if it was Sydney telling him something he didn't agree with.

"Sexually frustrated!" Angelo snapped back.

Jarod glared at him. "You're mean!"

"Pet does not know where this words come from. Oops."

"_These_ words!" Jarod growled scathingly.

Angelo rolled his eyes again.

"Stop doing that," Jarod groused. "I will hurt your Master the next time I see him, and then he'll hurt me. Do you want me getting hurt?"

"Jarod control."

"I don't want to," Jarod growled. "I find a strong distaste in you doing that – so stop it!"

Angelo looked away from him, feigning unconcern.

"What do I do about my sexual frustration?" Jarod asked, scooting closer to him again, pressing a fist to his chest. "I don't want to be sexually frustrated. It sounds bad. Sydney's sexually frustrated, and when do you ever see him smiling or happy?"

Angelo laughed.

"For your information, I know what I'm talking about. I heard a woman say that, and I think she would know, because she knows Sydney. And she's not a Pet! She knows him as a Person!"

"Upset he turned her down," Angelo said.

Jarod frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Woman desire Sydney; Sydney not desire her. Woman getting upset."

"Sydney's a dummy."

Angelo giggled.

"Why wouldn't Sydney desire her, if she desired him?" Jarod asked, grabbing Angelo's hand.

Angelo pulled his hand free of Jarod's and winced. "Not work like that. For some people. Sydney desires friendship, also. Thinks woman does not. Not good plan."

Jarod stared at him, a little blankly and a little in outrage. "But?" He shook his head. "You can choose – who you desire?"

Angelo shrugged. "Perhaps," he said.

Jarod brightened, hope building in his chest. "Can I choose?"

Angelo shrugged again. "Master says," he shot Jarod a dark look, "'teenage angst'."

"Pff! What does that even mean? You know, sometimes I think Raines doesn't even know what he's talking about."

Angelo laughed hysterically, amusement bright and shiny in his eyes.

Jarod thought he must be channelling a girl or something. That was how girls laughed, he'd always noticed. It wasn't how boys laughed. But maybe Angelo liked it; it was part of ihis/i denial or teenage angst. Maybe he wished he could meet a girl who laughed like that, so he decided he would emulate what he wanted so he wouldn't have to want it anymore, he would already have it.

Jarod frowned. But it wasn't the same. It really wasn't, and he bet Angelo knew it too.

He sighed. "Perhaps, one day, the Centre will want me to... how do you put that word... have... have sex, then me and my woman can have a child and they'll have another special child, like me." Realising what he'd just said, his heart sunk. "If... if they do, what should I do? I'll have to stay sexually frustrated for the rest of my life! I don't want them hurting mine or anyone else's child! You don't think they'd... force me, do you? What if the woman didn't desire me? That would be awful."

Angelo glanced at him. "Jarod, Centre is awful."

"Not that awful," Jarod replied dully, but he didn't really believe it himself. "Now I just don't anything to do with sex!"

"No choice. Normal."

Jarod snorted. "If they want to use it to manipulate me or someone else and our child – no! I don't want it! I don't want..."

"Sexuality."

Jarod scowled. "I don't want sexuality!"

Angelo glanced at him and leaned closer. After a moment, Jarod leaned back. He really didn't need Angelo up in his face like that, it was creepy. And if Angelo meant to share something with him Empathically, well, he didn't much want that either. He wanted to be finished with sexuality entirely. Done, dusted, over it.

When he moved back, Angelo moved toward him, and then there was nowhere else to go, just a wall behind him. Jarod was just getting ready to jump to his feet and run for it when Angelo kissed him. Jarod remember what a kiss was; Miss Parker had given him his first and only, up until a second ago, kiss. He had the urge to wallop Angelo one – he'd been saving his second kiss for Miss Parker! If he could have chosen to desire anyone, he would have chosen her. Every time, hands down. It would be her. Even if her father was the guy running this place, the guy keeping him here, after a fashion. That was her dad, not her. He didn't always agree with Sydney, even though he was his Master; he just let Sydney think he did, and Sydney never seemed to suspect otherwise. It was easier that way.

His stomach hurt and he started to shove Angelo away, but then his hands changed their mind and let him stay. Jarod didn't know why. He wanted to yell at them! The painful feeling in his stomach was worse, but then his hands did something funny and one of them was resting on Angelo's back and the other was touching the back of his neck and Jarod had to tell himself (really loudly) that it was just a dream. It was just a dream! His body didn't really want to kiss Angelo back, even if that was what it was kind of doing. It was just a traitor and it would be sorry later. Really sorry!

He started to go to push Angelo away again – even if it was a dream, it still felt really creepy and wrong – but his hands got muddled up and just pushed him down, onto the floor, and his traitor of a mouth was still kissing him because it felt nice and the pain in his stomach wasn't really pain anymore. It was something else. And even though Jarod knew he shouldn't be curious about "sexual" things, because it would only make his frustration worse, he couldn't quite pull himself back, and he only felt all the more worse. Angelo was an empath, and a major dummy! Even though he'd started it – to prove his point, Jarod supposed – he really couldn't stop it now. Jarod had to do that. But he didn't want to.

_Think about Angelo, not yourself_, he commanded himself firmly, knowing that whenever Sydney turned that tone on him he always listened, even when he really didn't want to, but it didn't work, and Jarod didn't know why.

One of his hands was tangled in Angelo's nice-smelling hair and the other was off someplace else, he supposed, trying not to feel to much about where it had gone off to. If he didn't pay it any mind, it might get bored and stop. He might stop.

Typically, that didn't work either, and the pain was back and it had prodding fingers, prodding him to do things he didn't think he really wanted to, it just wasn't in his stomach anymore, and it was rabid. Scary rabid.

He pulled his mouth away from Angelo's and buried his face in his neck, his hands venturing down his chest and across his abdomen, shaking with fright, but not stopping, not for a second. If it hadn't been a dream, Jarod would have been bashing his head on the wall already, hoping to knock himself out. It was just too... rabid!

It was like Angelo had said about the woman and Sydney, _he_ didn't want Angelo that way, so he should have been able to stop himself from grabbing and touching, like Sydney had been able to, but apparently he couldn't. He was only a little bit normal, not the whole way there. Or maybe he just needed more practice. He didn't know! All he knew was, he really wanted to wake up now!

Really!

But he also didn't want to, not just yet. The part of him that was a dummy was also rabidly, sickly curious, and it wanted to know what would happen, if he could _learn_ to control it, or... or ease it. The part of him he had just now decided to hate didn't care about his friend, Angelo. He was just a person, just there, and therefore he was as good an object worth desiring as any other. Jarod didn't like that part of him. It was grabby and thoughtless and far, far too loud for it was panting and grinding and seemed to have forgotten that as special as he was, he was still normal, and he still had shame.

Jarod's hands had reached the not at all inconspicuous bulge in Angelo's pants, one hand sliding inside for a feel whilst the other snuck around to squeeze Angelo's butt, when Jarod realised what he was doing. He was freaking himself out and he was doing what Angelo had said he did, separating himself from the trauma. That was probably wrong, that was denying. If he didn't deny his desires, maybe they'd see some sense and detach from his friend. He hoped so, anyway, because he was taking a scary chance and he didn't want to land flat on his face in the mess with nowhere else to turn.

He noticed, then, that he had a not at all inconspicuous bulge of his own and that it felt nice to be able to press it against something, someone, and really wondered why he'd ever, _ever_ been curious in the first place. It felt wonderful, really wonderful, but the point was that he didn't want it to! Ever! But it still did.

For some reason, they were sitting up, their legs kind of tangled around each other, and Jarod's hands were grabbing at Angelo's back, at his butt, getting all kinds of grabby in ways he didn't want to think about, and he had the strangest thought, wondering if Angelo was channelling Miss Parker – or maybe that woman who'd wanted Sydney – just then. If he was, it would be creepy, but not as bad, in a way, Jarod supposed. At least it would mean his friend still had... some kind of messed up sensibility, anyway, even if he didn't. He was breathing kind of funny, like girls and women did when they overestimated their ability to physically exert themselves and got winded, but he couldn't really have been because he wasn't a girl or a woman, and he was patting his arm, which was possibly the weirdest thing of all.

Jarod didn't want to think that the patting thing would also be one of Miss Parker's things; it was the woman who'd wanted Sydney, for sure. She was the weird one, not Miss Parker. Sydney had done well to stay away from her.

The grinding and moaning reached a fever pitch and Jarod frowned, annoyed that Angelo was still channelling the creepy woman who apparently now wanted to tug on his hair – by goodness, if she even made so much as a move to lay a hand on Sydney! – and then, thankfully, Jarod woke up. On the floor.

His face hurt.

He started to laugh.

The creepy woman hadn't won!

* * *

The next time Jarod saw Angelo, he couldn't help wanting to laugh, but he bit down on his lip and it only wobbled a little bit. Angelo didn't look at him, but his cheeks went a funny pink colour and Raines patted him on the head, muttering, "Settle down, Angelo."

Jarod had to fight very hard not to turn away and laugh. He calmed himself with the thought that it was a distinct possibility that Raines and this woman who liked patting were an item, or maybe Raines really was just a bit dumb sometimes. That was a possibility too.

Just then, Jarod heard a woman's voice and he turned to see the creepy woman talking quietly with Sydney. His heart started pounding harder and it was hard to stay glued to the spot. He heard Sydney say, "Thank you, Valerie. I'll get right on that," and Jarod shot a distracted glance in Angelo's direction, annoyed at the way the woman was staring at Sydney. He noticed Raines roll his eyes and place a hand on Angelo's back as if to hurry him along.

He wanted to smack Raines over the face. Rolling his eyes like that and petting Angelo as if he was an animal and not a person. No wonder Angelo was messed up – Raines didn't even care what he impressed on him with his creepy vibes and his creepy hands! He must really have been an idiot – some dummy, for sure – to forget that Angelo was psychometric. Or maybe he just didn't care – maybe Angelo was just a thing to him, and not a person. Much more like a machine, a tool.

Jarod glared at him hatefully, but Raines didn't turn around.

"Jarod?"

Jarod spun about and stared at Sydney, stared at the concern in his eyes. "Are you all right, Jarod?" Sydney asked, and Jarod felt like crying.

He noticed that Valerie was gone and for some reason that made him sad. Even though he really didn't like Valerie, he didn't really think she was involved with Raines. It made him sad that Sydney didn't really see her, even when he was looking right at her, even when she was trying so hard to make him see her. Sydney was nice to him, not like Raines was to Angelo, and he deserved someone who would be nice to him too.

"I'm fine, Sydney," Jarod replied, deadpan. He had a feeling Sydney would never really see Valerie, that as hard as she searched his eyes, he'd always see right through her. He didn't need her, he had his work, he had Jarod. He didn't need the kind of desire that made you yearn so powerfully for something in one instance, as if you might just die for the want of it, and in the next second fizzled away into ashes on the wind. He had a job, stability, a purpose in life that was fulfilling enough.

And so, Jarod realised, did he. He had a purpose too. He was a Pretender. That was his purpose. Maybe he couldn't save Angelo, but you never really got to choose in life anyway, you just told yourself you did. He could still help people. He just couldn't help his friend.

And that would have to be enough.


End file.
